THE ROYAL PROGRESS ROUND TAHITI (_continued_)—FRENCH FORT AT TARAVOU—THE
PENINSULA—LIFE IN BIRD-CAGE HOUSES—TORCHLIGHT PROCESSION—RETURN TO
PAPEETE.
PUEU, _Thursday, 18th_.
We woke this morning to find this beautiful world bathed in sunshine,
and I slipped out for a lovely early stroll along the shore. There was a
great calm, the sea literally without a ripple, reflecting the mellow
tones of the sky. I followed a wide grass road passing through a cocoa
plantation—luxuriant young palms of all ages, the ground beneath them
carpeted with succulent grasses; a combination of fresh greens
delightful to the eye. I think the heavy rain must have driven all the
land-crabs out of their holes, for truly they were legion, and all were
busily feeding, till, aware of a footstep, they darted back to their
burrows. In some spots they clustered in such numbers that the whole
bank seemed in motion. Some of these are as large as a good Scotch
“parten;” but there are also a vast number of the tiny crab, with one
large bright-coloured claw, which love the muddy shore at the mouth of
the rivers, where you may see them by the thousand, feeding busily with
a tiny claw while holding the large one before them as a shield.
Evidently, however, they know discretion to be the better part of
valour, for at the faintest movement which reveals the approach of
danger they vanish into their mud-holes faster than the twinkling of an
eye.
Our morning halt was at Afaahiti, a small village of which the king
himself is the chief, for which reason it had been arranged that he
should sleep there last night. We found Marau and the ladies of the
village stringing wreaths of sweet white blossoms, with which they
crowned themselves and us; and then we all adjourned to breakfast in a
bamboo house, decorated in the usual style with twisted and plaited
leaves, and deep fringes of dyed fibre. _Himènes_, of course,—and then,
while the band entertained the people, we, the unquiet spirits, wandered
down to explore the shore, which is overshadowed by large trees, beneath
which we found various kinds of large shells.
At noon we drove on to Pueu, where we were welcomed by a very large
assemblage, and conducted to the _cheferie_ or district hall, really a
splendid room, with a beautiful floor: it is like a great ball-room. All
the dining-tables were set at one end, while nine very pretty beds, with
artistic crimson and white quilts, and mosquito-nets tied up with bright
ribbons, were ranged down one side of the room. I am ashamed to say that
we all took a most uncourteous fit of laughing; for really at the first
glimpse the row of beds seemed to multiply, and we fancied we were all
to occupy this one room; but we soon discovered that only the junior
officers were to share it, and that excellent quarters had been prepared
for us all in different houses. The best house of three rooms was
assigned to the admiral, his son, and myself; and here I am now cosily
ensconced for a chat with you. My room, which opens out into the
verandah, has no doors, so my black waterproof sheet and the green
tartan plaid, inseparable companion of all my wanderings east or west,
act as good curtains.
This is a lovely place. In the afternoon we roamed through fragrant
orange-groves, and along the beautiful shore, and I managed to secure a
sketch of the village. As a matter of course there is a large Protestant
church, of which all the population are members, and a tiny Roman
Catholic chapel, without any congregation.
An exceedingly pretty banquet awaited us in the large _cheferie_, after
which we strolled about in the lovely moonlight, while the village
choirs sang their melodious _himènes_. At a very short distance they
sound like full-toned cathedral chimes.
_Chez_ M. DAMIAN, TARAVOU,
_Friday, 19th_.
At grey dawn Queen Marau came to my room to early tea, and told me that
the house which had been assigned to her and the king was so purely
native, that they had no beds—only mats and pillows—no hardship in this
delightful climate, but a curious distribution of hospitality, when to
each young lieutenant had been assigned so luxuriant a couch.
The drive along the peninsula was most lovely. Always by the broad green
road running close to the sea, and passing through richest foliage of
all sorts and forms; crossing crystalline streams which flowed down
beautiful glens, with great shapely hills on either side, and some
lonely peak towering at the head of the dark ravine. We came to one
broad river whence the view was so lovely that the admiral most kindly
decided to let one of the carriages wait while I sketched; an
arrangement highly satisfactory to its occupants, who went off for a
bathe in the clear delicious stream, while I stood on the bridge and
worked diligently till the last of our heavy baggage-carts came across,
and proved to be the last straw which that poor bridge could bear. An
ominous crack, then a crash, and the heavy _fourgon_ had broken through
the bridge, but happily rested on the strong cross timbers, and with
infinite trouble it was unloaded and raised. Then the bridge had to be
repaired, as we were to retrace the same road in the afternoon; when the
other end gave way and broke down, happily without doing serious damage.
A short drive brought us to Tautira, a large, very pretty village, where
the men were playing at spear-throwing. This is the first place where we
have seen any sort of game played. The admiral, according to his custom,
inspected the schools, and pronounced a verdict not altogether
encouraging on the work of a young priest, who was setting the children
to such useful tasks as copying “mon âme est souillé de péchés!”[43] off
a large black slate; they being almost as ignorant of French as he of
Tahitian. The admiral discourages the teaching of French, especially to
the girls, rightly judging that such knowledge will prove by no means to
their moral weal.
We were, as usual, most hospitably entertained with all the village
could give, of fish and fruit, flesh and fowl. Everywhere those
excellent white cray-fish, the _varo_, are our chief delicacy. Here and
there pine-apples are produced, but they are very poor, probably
uncultivated. The _himènes_ at Tautira were exceedingly pretty, and we
left that pleasant “world’s end” with much regret. The carriage-road
does not extend round the peninsula, so we had to return to the isthmus
to start afresh. We reached Taravou in time for dinner, and found the
roses beautiful as before.
IN A NATIVE HOUSE, TEAHAUPOO,
_Saturday, 20th_.
Early this morning we were once more _en route_, and drove to the other
side of the peninsula, which is, if possible, even lovelier than what we
saw yesterday. Marau and the king had preceded us to the village of
Vairao, where the ladies had employed the morning in preparing garlands
of a white flower, like jessamine, with which they crowned us. This
village is poor; so instead of receiving us in a fine district house,
the people had erected very picturesque booths on three sides of a
square. The chorus-singers were grouped on the grass in the centre,
where were also heaped up the usual ceremonial offerings of fruit and
pigs—apparently for show—as there is always an ample supply of food on
the tables.
Here, in addition to the usual vegetables, yams, and _taro_, sweet
potatoes, bread-fruit, and _faees_ roasted in wood-ashes, we had
calabashes of sticky _poi_, which is a preparation of ripe bread-fruit,
greatly in favour with the natives, and which in old times was the
principal food of this island, as it still is in Hawaii. I do not think
it was ever used in the isles further west, where the bread-fruit is a
very inferior tree to what it is in this, its native home. Most of the
_poi_ which is consumed in Hawaii is made from _taro_, and is of a
pinkish colour. Here _taro_ is the luxury, bread-fruit the staff of
life, so it alone is used. When eaten fresh with milk it tastes rather
like gooseberry-fool; but the natives prefer it fermented, and
consequently sour.
The pulpy fruit is first pounded with a stone pestle in a wooden bowl,
till it attains the consistency of dough. It is then wrapped in leaves
and baked in an earth-oven over red-hot stones. Finally, it is beaten up
with water till it becomes a glutinous yellowish mass, indescribably
sticky, and with a slightly acid flavour.
To the initiated there is always a malicious pleasure in watching the
undignified efforts of a new hand at dipping into this dish; for of
course there are no spoons or forks in the question; and a stranger,
seeing the neatness with which an experienced hand feeds himself, is apt
to imagine that it is all plain sailing, and so plunges recklessly into
this most adhesive paste, probably with the result of lifting the whole
calabash, instead of the mouthful he expected. The correct method is to
dip the forefinger of the right hand in the bowl, and as you draw it out
smoothly coated with _poi_, give it a series of rapid twirls to prevent
its hanging in glutinous strings; then with a final flourish, to keep it
from dripping, land the finger in the mouth, and draw it back quite free
from the paste, and ready to repeat the process. Two or more persons
generally eat out of the same bowl, in which case they have cocoa-nut
shells of fresh water beside them in which to wash their finger before
dipping again in the _poi_; but it really does not much matter, as the
preparation is so very sticky that you must of necessity appropriate
every particle you touch, so you and your neighbour are in no danger of
exchanging atoms! as you would be, in sharing a bowl of well-chewed
_kava_.
That beverage of the isles did not appear at this native feast; in fact
I have never seen it in Tahiti, and suppose it must have died out before
the superior attractions of orange-rum and similar decoctions. On the
present occasion, cocoa-nuts were the only drink, with the exception of
pure water. As regards the latter, I was much struck by an ingenious
substitute for water-jars. At every supporting post of the booths was
fastened an upright bamboo, perhaps twelve feet in length, and pierced
from end to end, only the lowest joint being left intact. Here a spigot
was introduced, and the bamboo being filled with water, supplied drink
for all the thirsty multitude. As drinking-cups, the people here still
use cocoa-nut cups, scraped very thin and polished by constant friction
on a stone in water, till they become as light, and almost as
transparent, as tortoise-shell. The _himènes_ here were the prettiest we
have yet heard, and you can understand that we are by this time quite
connoisseurs in this peculiar music. The _Upa-upa_ was danced with
unusual zest, but was none the less ungraceful.
Another most exquisite drive brought us to Teahaupoo, where we wandered
about, lost in admiration, while the king and the admiral were
undergoing the usual official speeches. The feast this evening was
rather dull, being spread along one side of a very long and dimly
lighted table. Of course we always require artificial light for dinner,
as, in the tropics, the sun sets all the year round at about six
o’clock, rising at about the same hour in the morning. We often think
enviously of your long summer twilight. But then, on the other hand, we
have no short, dark, winter days. Again to-night the _himène_ singing
was unusually fascinating. It varies much, and the most charming glees
are those which are most suggestive of musical chimes.
Queen Marau offered me quarters in the large native house awarded to her
and Ariiaue. It consisted of one large room without divisions,
containing several good beds, with the usual pretty bright quilts and
mosquito-nets. We curtained off one end of the room for the king and an
old chief, and they are now sleeping peacefully, as we should also be
doing—so good-night.
TARAVOU, _Sunday, 21st_.
Being a light sleeper, I was awakened long before dawn by hearing
Ariiaue and his companion astir, and soon after 4 A.M. they started for
Afaahiti, the king’s own village. The rain was pouring in a pitiless,
relentless fashion; and beat in beneath the wide eaves against the open
walls of our bird-cage house. Still we would fain have stayed where we
were, and reluctantly obeyed the order to be _en voiture_ at seven
o’clock, to return to the isthmus. The rain never ceased, and all the
beauty which gladdened us yesterday was invisible. Only sheets of grey
drifting cloud, and dripping trees, dripping carriages, horses, and
umbrellas. We left Marau at Afaahiti, while we drove on to these now
familiar quarters, where I have the luxury of a large, good room. Of
course we all arrived soaked, and have spent the day in trying to get
dry. I think most of the gentlemen have managed a few hours of sleep.
IN THE CHEFERIE, MAHAENA, _Monday, 22d_.
An early drive brought us to Hitiaa, the house of little Hinoi’s mother,
the pretty young widow of the Prince de Joinville. Everything here was
very gracefully done, and the festival as purely native as possible.
Here the severity of Court mourning was not mitigated, and all the women
wore crowns of fibre dyed black, which looked very sombre.
Immediately after breakfast we started for Mahaena, preceded by a party
of six or eight picturesque lancers, who had formed part of old Queen
Pomare’s body-guard. They added a pleasant feature to the beautiful
scenery as they rode along the green glades, through the usual
successions of glorious foliage;—groves of magnificent bread-fruit
trees, indigenous to those isles; next a clump of noble mango-trees,
recently imported, but now quite at home; then a group of tall palms, or
a long avenue of gigantic bananas, their leaves, sometimes twelve feet
long, meeting over our heads. Then came patches of sugar or Indian corn,
and next a plantation of vanilla, trained to climb over closely planted
tall coffee, or else over vermilion-bushes. Sometimes it is planted,
without more ado, at the root of pruned guava bushes. These grow wild
over the whole country, loaded with large, excellent fruit, and,
moreover, supply the whole fuel of the isles, and good food for cattle.
They are all self-sown,—descendants of a few plants introduced as garden
fruit trees,—and now they have overrun the isles and are looked upon by
the planters as a curse, because of the rapidity and tenacity with which
they take possession of any patch of neglected land. Yet a plant which
so generously yields food for man and beast, and abundant fuel, is
surely not altogether evil! Amongst all this wealth of food-producing
vegetation, I sometimes looked in vain for any trees that were merely
ornamental; and literally there were only the yellow hybiscus, which
yields the useful fibre, and the candle-nut, covered with clusters of
white blossoms, somewhat resembling white lilac, and bearing nuts with
oily kernels, whence the tree derives its name.
The method of manufacturing candles from candle-nuts is delightfully
simple. First the nuts are lightly baked, to render their very hard
shell more brittle; the kernels are thus obtained whole, and a hole
being bored in each, about a dozen are strung together on the mid-rib of
a palm-leaf, which acts as the wick, and the oily nuts, each the size of
a walnut, burn slowly with a dim light and oppressive smell.
On our arrival here, we were met by a messenger from Papeete, announcing
an outbreak of a serious form of influenza, from which the king’s aunt
died this morning. This is a great grief to the royal brothers, who at
once started to attend her funeral. Ties of family affection appear to
be very strong in Tahiti, and this sad news has cast a gloom on
everything. It is very grievous for our hosts, who had made their
preparations with great care, and were looking forward to this
opportunity of testifying their loyalty.
The river here is lovely. Marau and I bathed together, and I spent the
afternoon sketching. During the evening _himènes_, we all sat in
pleasant groups on the shore, or strolled along to the mouth of the
river. For our night quarters, this large district house has been
divided by temporary screens, charmingly decorated with quaintly knotted
palm-leaves and tree-ferns. I share one of these divisions with the
queen, the admiral and his son occupy the next, and all the other
gentlemen have disposed of themselves at the further end.
PAPENOO, _Tuesday, 23d_.
Last night, for the first time, we were all devoured by fleas, and a
chorus of aggravation arose from all sides of the pretty _cheferie_.
Everything was beautifully clean, so we attribute the presence of these
unwelcome intruders to the fact that the hay, which is always laid as a
carpet on the wooden floor, must have been too old.
We all compared notes of distress over our morning coffee—then, as
usual, forgot all save the beauty of the scenery as we drove along the
shore to Tiarei, where a temporary avenue of _faees_, or wild banana,
had been planted with infinite trouble and at a great sacrifice of fine
fruit-bearing plants. The peculiarity of the _faees_[44] is, that
instead of carrying its huge cluster of fruit pendent, beneath its broad
leaves, it carries it upright in the centre. The _faees_ invariably grow
in the most inaccessible ravines and crevices of the rock; so it must
have been a troublesome task to carry these down, without injury to the
large delicate leaves.
We were welcomed by a large family of chiefs, and specially by a kind
old lady, who kissed us all on both cheeks, down to M. Hardouin, A.D.C.,
when Marau’s untimely laughter stopped her proceeding to the remaining
eighteen officers! Though the absence of the king must have made it
rather flat for the chiefs, the official speeches were made to the
admiral, and the _himènes_ sung as usual.
Then followed a most lovely drive, the road cut along the face of
basaltic cliffs, and here we are close to another very fine river, which
of course implies pleasant bathing and sketching. This evening we had a
delightful stroll along the shore, the wavelets breaking on a pebbly
beach. At the last moment, the moon rose glorious from the sea—a vision
of great beauty.
We are very comfortably housed to-night in the chief’s own house. Marau
and I occupy one end, and his family have the other.
_Chez_ REV. JAMES GREEN, PAPEETE, _Oct. 25th_.
Late last night we returned to headquarters, and I to this pleasant
nest, very glad of the prospect of a few days’ rest. Yesterday was a
long day, for I was out sketching with the first ray of light, and
worked till it was time to start for the Haapepe district, of which the
king’s brother, Terii Tapunui is chief. He is distressingly lame, but is
a very good fellow, with a particularly nice wife, a cousin of the
charming Moë. She is noted for her skill in making pretty hats. They
received us at Point Venus, so called because Captain Cook thence
observed the transit of Venus in 1769.
Pomare and Tamatoa rejoined the party after returning from their aunt’s
funeral; and the three brothers spent the afternoon together by
themselves—a wise course, as Tamatoa had striven so hard to drown his
grief, that he had attained a jocose-beatific condition, very annoying
to the king, who all this time has been a model of sobriety, greatly to
the delight of the admiral.
This quiet little village presents the usual anomaly of a very large
Roman Catholic church without a congregation, standing close to the
original congregational church. The latter is a large cool building, in
which I gladly took refuge to escape from noise and heat; for several
friends who had driven down from Papeete to meet us, were so delighted
to find a smooth carpet, that they commenced dancing immediately after
late breakfast, and kept it up merrily all the afternoon.
When the heat began to subside I found my way to the great lighthouse,
where the French officials were most obliging, and did the honours of
their lofty tower with all courtesy. From the summit there is a grand
view of mountains, including Orofena, which is the highest point of
Tahiti—height 7336 feet. At our feet lay the village, concealed by a sea
of waving palms, only their crowns visible, and rippling like running
water as the light breeze passed over them. It was a splendid
sketching-point, and I held my ground till a party of the dancers came
to summon me to the banquet.
Then followed as pretty a scene as I have ever witnessed. We had to
drive twelve miles to Papeete; and as the nights are dark, and the moon
was not due till towards midnight, we knew that torches would be
required—but only expected the necessary number. The Tahitians had,
however, resolved on a demonstration, to show their appreciation of the
course adopted by the admiral, and their gratitude for his sympathy. So
when we had toiled up a long steep hill, about three miles from Point
Venus, we were met by a company of stalwart men carrying blazing torches
of cocoa-palm leaves, about twelve feet long. These turned and preceded
us, their numbers receiving continual reinforcements, some on horseback,
some on foot, till they mustered fully a thousand, and the ruddy glare
of the torches illumined the rich masses of foliage, gleaming on the
glossy leaves of the bread-fruit, and the bright sword-like fronds of
the palms, while the lurid smoke lent something of cloudy mystery to the
whole. Add to this, the presence of all the inhabitants, who of course
poured out from every bird-cage cottage along the road and joined the
procession, adding their quota of mirth and chatter to the general
hubbub. Of course with so many walkers we could only progress at a
foot’s pace, and nine miles of this at last became somewhat bewildering;
it seemed as if we were moving in a strange dream. A party of native
drummers added their very trying “music” to the general noise; but
happily the band fell into the spirit of the thing, and though their
afternoon’s work fully entitled them to rest, they played at intervals
all the way.
At the outskirts of the town there was a halt, and in obedience to
municipal regulations every torch was extinguished, and we entered the
ill-lighted town in almost complete darkness. It was a wise precaution,
however, as the air was full of flying sparks, and a conflagration would
make short work of the dry wooden houses. Happily the large crowd was
quiet and orderly; and so far as I am aware, I myself am the only
sufferer from that half-hour’s darkness, during which my beloved green
plaid was abstracted from the bundle in which I had placed it. I think I
know the thief—at least I have the strongest reason to suspect a
half-caste, in no way connected with Tahiti, save by residence. But I
fear there is not the slightest hope of ever recovering it. It was a
large green plaid, of “Black Watch” tartan, which has been my
inseparable companion and delight for many a year, and in many a strange
place. I have slept in it on the top of Adam’s Peak, and in the
wonderful jungle cities of Ceylon, and it has travelled to the remotest
corners of Australasia and Polynesia, and many and varied are its
associations with people and things.
“Oh, my plaid was dear to me!”
and deeply do I abhor the covetous thief who has robbed me, so
infinitely beyond the value of a few fathoms of tartan;
“For we cannot buy with gold
The old associations.”
Quite a number of the neighbours have called here to-day, and welcomed
me back as if I were an old friend returning from a long journey. There
is a cordiality and a heartiness about them all, which is truly
delightful. How different from a return to England after a few years’
absence, when the people you had supposed to be intimate friends vaguely
ask you “if you haven’t been somewhere abroad?” and perhaps, if they are
unusually hospitable, invite you to luncheon the following week!
_Friday, 26th._
This morning Narii Salmon took me on board the Seignelay to see my old
friends and my old quarters. They welcomed me back most heartily, and
seemed really glad that I had seen the isle to such advantage—but they
themselves were all dull and sad. Time has as yet done nothing to heal
their grief, and indeed the ship seems altogether changed, even
externally, for she has been painted white, to match La Magicienne.
I returned with Narii to breakfast with his sister, Mrs Brander; there
we were joined by the admiral, who came to make arrangements with her
for the next part of the programme; for she is as sensible as she is
handsome, which is saying much, and her opinions and suggestions carry
great weight with every one.
Already preparations are being made for another grand expedition, for
there are several lesser isles subject to the king of Tahiti; and next
week the Seignelay is to convey the king and queen and their party to
Moorea, the beautiful island which we passed on the morning of our
arrival in Tahiti, and of which Mrs Brander is the high chiefess.
I hear that there is a chance of letters being despatched by some
vessel, so I may as well close this.... Your loving sister.